Broken Crown
by TheBaronsVeve
Summary: Who could have known what would become of the gilded god and the broken billionaire? Where there is passion there is pain and where strength is given, it is taken away. Eventual Tony/Loki, Tony/Lady Loki. Avengers-verse. Chapter 1/20
1. The gilded god and strawberry blond

_But in this twilight our choices seal our fate-_Broken Crown, Mumford and Sons.

1. The Gilded God and Strawberry Blond

The god had been kept behind double walled glass for nearly a year now. Each day had seen his insanity waning, the darkness in his eyes drifting back behind a veil of ice and emptiness. When Thor had first returned from Asgard with Loki still in his grasp, the collective sigh of relief that the newly assembled Avengers had breathed was sucked back in. Thor had given reasons of unrest outside the realm of Asgard for returning with the prodigal Odinson but that had done nothing to quell the menacing expressions each individual had adopted upon hearing it. So, the god of chaos had a temporary green card to remain on Earth until whatever ill had befallen Asgard and the outer realms subsided and it was 'safe' for Loki to return.  
Quite frankly, no one had cared about Loki's safe return to Asgard. In fact, if somewhere within the unrest Loki was captured or killed it was unlikely that any of them would shed too many tears.  
Except, maybe, for Thor.  
Loki had been placed in the basement of the newly formed HQ for the Avengers, what was previously known as Stark Tower. Tony had protested to the god being locked away only a few stories beneath where he slept when he was in Manhattan, but as heavily armed S.H.I.E.L.D agents had led the bound and gagged god into the depths of the tower, he found himself without a say in the matter. And then, the madness had slipped away from the god like the shedding of snakeskin. The glassiness of his eyes had subsided and something more of mischief than malice replaced it. Thor had taken to sitting with the man he still fervently called his brother, daily. He touched calloused skin to the glass and spoke softly to him in a language that could not be readily deciphered. Loki remained on the far side of the glass structure, eyes turned downward, not sparing the god of thunder a single glance. It had gone on like that for months.  
Until one day, Tony stepped into the lounge in his penthouse and the tumbler of scotch in his hand to the tile floor below. It shattered on impact, the harsh sound grating on what suddenly became raw nerves.  
The god of chaos stood overlooking the city as he had once done moments before sending Tony through the glass and plummeting towards the asphalt below.  
Loki had turned his eyes to Tony, who had realized suddenly that the man was a shadow of what he'd once been. No less intimidating, but far more approachable.  
At least, that is how it seemed.  
Tony had raised a brow at the god and gave a token smirk that had saved his life more than once.  
"You're entrances are getting less impressive." he'd quipped.  
Loki had mimicked his expression, minus the half-smile.  
"And you are still as foolish as you once were."  
After that day Loki had not remained behind the glass walls. He had always been able to escape, but he had not done so by choice. It was a curious thing and one that had unsettled the Avengers at first. The last time Loki had decided against escape, they wound up with a nearly downed Helicarrier and a scattered group of heroes. Though it had not been luck but fate that pulled them back together in the end, they did not wish to experience the generally dangerous circumstances under which Loki ignored chances to flee.  
This time, however, the god had obliged them and returned to the case when their suspicion became evident.  
"If it would put you at ease," he had drawled. "then I would remain where you are able to see me at all times."  
Fury had come very close to laughing in his face. He'd commissioned Tony to build something to block Loki's magick, the very thing that was likely allowing his escape from the glass case. Tony had rolled dark eyes and gave a, "Yes, dear." Before wandering off to one of the R & D floors to begin the work.  
That had been six months ago. Tony had never gotten around to finishing the damn idea he'd drafted.  
_Besides,_ he'd told himself, _he's not going anywhere. Guys hardly left the cage anyways.  
_And it was true. One year after the attack on Manhattan, Loki sat in a cage that could not hold him, remaining a prisoner by choice. And it was around this time that Tony had begun to grow curious of his reasoning.

Which is why, for days now, the engineer had been occasionally dropping by, settling himself inside the glass cage with a tablet, or a book, or a magazine and taunting what he'd termed 'the creepy crawly'. For fun, of course. He did not have a death wish. Per se. Today he sat with a magazine in his lap, licking the tip of his finger before flipping a page, and sparing the god across the room an occasional glance. Loki stood with his eyes on the exterior of his cell, something that he would not necessarily call 'companionable' silence stretching between them.  
"Anything interesting today?" Loki's voice cut through said silence like silk. Tony did not spare a glance from the article about himself as he replied, "Sure there is. I'm always interesting."  
Loki had not bothered turning to face Tony, either. "Please, spare me your ego."  
Tony snorted. "Hey, my ego has never flattened a city. So, no. I will spare you nothing."  
He licked his finger and flipped another page.  
Loki had responded with a hint of something just a bit threatening mixed with his lilting syllables. "I would not test the god of chaos, Stark."  
"Why not? Afraid I'll find positive results for syphilis?"  
Another lick. Another page flip. The squeak of leather boots on metal as Loki turned slowly to eye him. "You are not amusing."  
This time, Tony shot him a look of feigned hurt. "You cut me deep. What _is_ amusing are your delusions of godhood. You're stuck here. Thor said you can't go back 'til Big Daddy works out the problems with the relatives so you had better get used to being one of us.  
Loki cocked a brow took a hesitant step in the mans direction. This had been going on for a little while now. This banter, this taunting-it had been keeping Loki's mind sharp but slowly had begun to grate on his nerves.  
"My presence on Midgard does not render me mortal. I will remain a god until the day my life ends. But I am immortal so-.."  
Another lick, another page turn.  
"What about the glow stick of destiny? Isn't that what gave you all that hoodo voodoo mind control power? What can you do without that thing? Are gods like Jedis with some sort of force? Do you have midi-chlorians in your blood"  
Loki took in a slow breath. The way Tony jumped from thought to thought was remarkable and frustrating to say the very least. And he had no idea what a 'medi-klor-i-on' was.  
"I have mastered elements you will never hope to understand."  
Tony rolled up the magazine and unfolded his legs. His joints cracked in protest as he straightened them out. He stood, slowly, and crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes were lit with amusement at the verbal tennis match he was having with the self-proclaimed god of chaos. There was no question about just how much Tony enjoyed taunting such an easily offended and reactive creature.  
"Hey. I mastered whacking off when I was nine. Of all the millennia you've seen it's taken a captivity in a glass box to master this 'mysterious element'? Oh and heads up, there are security cameras in here."  
Loki's fist curled in a bit. The man was beyond frustrating. "I would rather not be regaled with tales of the insurmountable number of times that Tony Stark has pleasured himself. It is an image I do not wish to retain, ever. And as for the various element you petty humans have yet to master and discover, it only speaks to the amount of time you all must spend with your collective hands in your pants."  
Tony barked a laugh. "That was actually pretty good. You deserve this."  
He gave a slow clap and an exaggerated nod. Loki scowled at him. His patience always began to wear thin after the conversation fell to the most uncouth topics. He made another step towards the man and held out a hand. "I wish to have that item."  
A long finger pointed at the magazine in Tony's hands, to which Tony unraveled it and handed it over. "My conversation not entertaining enough for you?" he prodded.  
As Loki received the thin booklet he raised his eyes to Tony's. "Ah, you did catch that. Very good."  
Tony glanced at the leather watch wrapped about his wrist and eyed the door. "Well, I am _so_ sorry." he speaks with mock sincerity. " I know these little play dates of ours are the highlight of your day."  
Loki narrowed his eyes and took a step away from the man. "I do not know of this date of play you speak of, but I believe these visits you insist on maintaining are simply the attempts of a dreary old man to amuse himself in his final years by taunting the god in the box."  
Tony's lip twitched a bit.  
"Dreary old man? I'm hardly nearing mid-life crisis. If I was on my final round, trust me, I _would _have better things to do than be the ADHD kid at the zoo who pokes the ugly tarantula in its tank with a stick." He eyes the door again and gives a quick wink to the paler man.  
"Well, Chaos, it's been real." He turns and heads for the sliding glass that whirs open for him as he steps in front of it. Loki watched him go with the same melancholic expression he had kept for nearly the entire conversation.  
After their second encounter in the lounge, the one that did not result in a broken window, Tony seemed to enjoy finding ways to pick at Loki. It was unusual for a mortal to act so amiable with one who only one year ago had attempted to enslave him. The other Avengers, as far as Loki could tell, still held their grudges. And so they should.  
But this one, this Anthony Stark, was different. Vexing.  
Loki narrowed his eyes a bit as he came across the article on Tony.  
Cavalier. A dangerous characteristic to hold.

Tony's feather light touches on the screen sent the designs skittering about the desk. The large touch screen held about a dozen folders, each labeled with numbers. Never let it be said that Tony Stark was disorganized. His organization was just…not entirely easy to navigate for people who were not Tony Stark. He brought up three articles-one he could not read. One that just _looked_ boring without even reading the first page. The third was a condensing of the book that Isabel had followed like a religion. The author was Snorri somethingorother. Some weird name that did not look real. Maybe it was a nom de plume.  
Maybe Snorri just had a really unfortunate name.  
Nonetheless, his memory of the older woman sitting before the blazing fire and reading the book urged him on. He had only made it a few pages into the article when he spotted Loki's name. A lopsided smile crossed his features and he dragged the article into a little folder labeled '19/7'.  
Perfect, more topics to talk about. More things to pry from those tight lips.  
With a great stretch that nearly had the chair beneath him tipping, he relaxed his feet onto the desk as the touch screen capabilities faded. He gave a yawn that cracked his jaw a bit before finally deciding it was time to find a comfortable sleeping place that did not involve potentially tipping a chair and cracking ones skull. He passed the kitchen area, double checking that the automatic coffee brewer was set accurately before moving on down the hall. He gently pushed the wooden door open to reveal the guest room. His clothes were littered about the room yet another example of not easy to navigate organization and he added to the collection by stripping off the Black Sabbath t-shirt before falling into the bed. The Equilibrium Thermodynamics book sat heavily on the pillow next to his and he half considered picking it up again before his lids fell to a close. He hoped that this night he would not dream of strawberry blond hair falling in auburn eyes.


	2. 20 questions with Norse gods

As always I own nothing and Marvel owns all. Well...and Snorri and the Norse as well.  
Enjoy the read! Also, if you have the time please review! They are my fuel…much like Tony with his coffee!

3-Aigni

* * *

Ch. 2 - **20 Questions with Norse gods**

The light that snuck in through the bay windows in the penthouse lit the room so serenely that Loki had taken to simply sitting and admiring the serenity. His legs were wrapped up into his lap, slender fingers resting on his knees, and his lids drawn low along glowing irises. The night had been free of rest, as had all his nights in succession since returning to Midgard. After pacing about in what those who still subscribed to the notion that it could keep him held called a 'cage' he'd decided that the lounge would be far more pleasant to non-sleep in. As the warm sunlight drifted along the tile he knew he had been right. He'd also been correct about Stark's lack of wakefulness. Loki had noticed the man had deplorable sleeping habits, often involving an entire lack thereof, but when he did manage to sleep it would be in fits that lasted until the late noon.

With the invasion of the other Avengers, as Stark had called them, the Tower had gone from something that Stark had seemed to consider his own to a communal landing pad for each unique natural disaster that comprised the team. Loki had noticed the little flashes of annoyance across his banter-mates face when the robotic voice riddled with sarcasm had informed him of one or another breaking something. The appearance of one or two grey hairs had also not gone unnoticed by the Liesmith. Again, no doubt attributed to the daily incidences that had pulled the engineer away from their time together. Loki let one luminescent eye slide open and the edges of his lips curled. Had he truly grown so fond of the visits that he felt a loss when they did not occur? No. Of course that would be a ridiculous notion. It was simply the fun of yet another mortal willing to put his pride into Loki's hands to be melded and twisted into pieces.

'_Nothing more,'_ he thought briskly, before sliding his long limbs out of their position and standing to his full height.

He moved across the lounge to lean against the marble island in the mock kitchen and eyed the refrigerator a few feet across the way. He wondered exactly what Stark might keep in said refrigerator for sustenance as he noted the emptiness of his stomach. Considering the man's habits, it was either empty, stocked full with Midgardian spirits, or riddled with the most inhuman of perishables. With a groan he pushed himself from the counter and slid long fingers about the handle, jerking the thing ajar. As he'd suspected there was not much more than a carton of cream long since expired, a cardboard 'pizza' box that had likely not seen the light of day in weeks, and an unusually large collection of juice boxes. The god rolled his eyes and snatched one of the boxes from the collection, slamming the door shut emphatically in disapproval. A soft flutter next to his head caught his attention and he watched a piece of paper slip from beneath a magnet on the fridge and slide beneath his booted foot. With a growl, he yanked the thing from the floor and prepared to pitch it into the trash. It was not a simple piece of paper but a photo, one that had seen much attention of late as it's corners and edges had feathered and wilted. The woman in the photo was not particularly attractive, Loki noted with a frown, and he wondered why Stark would keep such a thing. Considering what he knew of Stark's reputation, his type was one that was disposable, buxom, and blond.  
Despite his curiosity he simply fastened the thing back onto the black fridge door, taking a step back to examine it. He supposed she was attractive enough, and, in just the right light perhaps she could be a blond. A sort of, reddish-blond.

A sudden click followed by a hiss in his vicinity startled him into backing away from the counter. The little black machine in the corner whirred to life and a moment later the scent of dark spices and bitterness filled the air. Loki sniffed at it in pleasure. It was a delightful aroma, truly.

* * *

"What the hell?!" a gravelly voice shattered the silence far too quickly and Loki spun on his heel only to come face to face with a disheveled Tony Stark. His dark eyes were still sleep riddled but wrenched open in surprise. The rest of his state indicated that he'd only just awoken, including his state of dress that found him in nothing but a pair of red and gold boxers. There were dark circles beneath his eyes and the man looked altogether worn. The thought of that struck Loki as unusual, considering that all the times he'd seen Stark, he had been flitting about the 'cage' as though his energy knew no bounds.

"Chaos." Tony pegged the god with a hard glare. "If you're coming up here, warn me first so I can put on some goddamn pants and, you know, not wake up prepped to deploy the suit."  
He scowled and peppered the statement with, "Shit.", before pushing past Loki and ambling to the machine that had startled the god so.

Loki observed him as he rummaged around in the cupboard to locate a mug and shoved it under the machine that produced a steaming black liquid. The spicy aroma that hung in the air grew significantly as Tony pushed past him once more and threw the fridge open and hauled out the carton. As he slammed the door shut once more, his hand shot out and secured the photo to the fridge without even looking back to do so.

'_So,'_ Loki pondered, '_it is of value.'_

As Tony poured the cream into his coffee, sickly lumps of coagulated milk clung to the surface of the coffee. "Dammit. You're brother didn't replace my shit yet."  
Loki bristled at the words and leaned his body against the island once more. "He is _not_ my brother, Stark."  
"Well whatever he is, he didn't replace my cream."  
Tony dropped the mug into the sink and went searching for another, filling it once more.  
"Aren't you going to offer one to me?" Loki narrowed his eyes at the back of Tony's head and eyed the cup in his hand.

Tony turned to him and raised his eyebrows. A smirk crossed his features and the tiredness that had once plagued them skirted away. "Oh, I am sorry, your worshipfulness."  
But he made no move to select a mug from the oak cupboard and simply walked past Loki to the couch in the lounge before flicking on a television that lowered from the ceiling. Loki scrunched his nose in reply to the ignorance of his demand and glared at Tony from his spot in the kitchen. "You will retrieve it for me."  
Tony snorted a laugh and glanced over his shoulder. "How about..no."  
Loki was about to make a threat, perhaps idle, perhaps not he had not yet decided, when Tony sat up abruptly. He turned to Loki, who was suddenly disturbed by the look on the man's face. The smile seemed far too much like Loki's own.  
"Actually, I will make you a deal. Sound good?"  
Loki cocked a brow and folded long arms across his chest.  
"What are the terms of this arrangement?"  
Tony pushes himself to his feet, dropping the coffee mug onto a glass table, and steps a little closer to Loki.  
"A little bet, that's all."

Loki allowed his face to remain unchanging as he replied, "A bet. With you? Hardly wise on your part."  
Tony's expression did not slip, he simply grinned maniacally at the other man. "Here are the terms: I win, you agree to be locked up. For real. No escaping shit, no hocus pocus. Nothing, just confinement."  
Loki glowered at him, his eyes becoming slits. "And if I win?"  
Tony placed his hands on his hips and gave a curt bow. "Then I will wait on you hand and foot until your pasty ass goes back to Asgard."  
Loki opened his mouth to reply, then promptly shut it once more. The engineer could be of use to him, truly, and he would certainly not pass up the chance to use his trickery to secure a servant. What all mortals should be and had forgotten just who Loki was. Perhaps the servitude of Tony Stark would remind them. He returned Tony's grin with a light smirk.  
"And the game we are playing? What are we betting upon?"  
Tony stepped back to the couch, motioning for Loki to follow. "Lying."  
Loki gave a genuine laugh at that.  
"Lying? You want to bet with lying. Against..the Liesmith."  
He took a seat on the chair adjacent from the man on the couch and shook his head. "You are more foolish than I thought. But if you truly wish servitude to me so, then I implore you to continue."  
Tony seemed entirely unphased by Loki's confidence, nor by the god calling him foolish and simply kicked his feet onto the table, causing the cup to jolt a little and spill its contents onto the glass it sat upon. "So, the first one not to recognize a lie or the truth loses."  
Loki mimicked Tony's position, kicking his feet onto the glass as well. The coffee sloshed about again and Tony eyed him. "Hey."  
"Go. On."  
The tone Loki takes is threatening, but not exactly dangerous. Playful, even. Tony sighs and pushes his still unclothed torso back into the couch before replying.  
"Alright alright…lemme think…" he pondered with great exaggeration before snapping his fingers and turning his gaze back to Loki. "I once had to uh…wax Thor's hammer, if ya know what I mean." He waggled his eyebrows.  
Loki lifted a brow and shook his head. "You will do anything for a rise." He stretched his arms out before him lazily and answered, "You did. And what you mean is you in fact did wax Mjolnir upon his request because he had gotten it irreversibly stained with…" He reached around in his mind. "Grape jelly."  
Tony smiled. "Very good. So your name does mean something after all."  
Loki scoffed and leaned forward a bit. "Of course. Now, my turn. Thor and I once appeared as women and he was married off as the bride of a king."  
Tony eyed him patronizingly and folded his arms. "Have I or have I _not _read the Prose Edda?"  
_Thank you Snorri whatshisname. _"The only _scribed _instance of the time you and your br-"  
He received an icy glare from the god. "-not brother dressed in drag. Though I shudder to think of how many unrecorded times there probably were. Truth." he said very matter-of-factly. Loki sighed heavily and seemed to squirm in his seat.  
"Ah yes. The Edda. Well then, yes you are correct. It is your turn."

Tony pauses for a minute before meeting Loki's eyes directly. "Alright. I once had to play the Norse god of mischief in an elementary school play." His words are heavy with amusement and Loki rolls his eyes at their utterance.  
"A bold faced lie if I have ever heard one. If you'd done so, you would have been gloating about being a far superior god of mischief than I. And at a fourth grade level no less."  
He leans forward and taps the glass of the table methodically. "Lie."  
Tony grins impishly. He'd caught him. It would be back to the cage for Loki and perhaps then Tony could finally attain uninterrupted sleep. Though that was unlikely.  
"Looks like it's one nothing in the humans favor." He chuckled, self satisfied, and said nothing when he caught the flash of anger across Loki's face. The anger was followed by a slight paling at the realization of the consequences, but he made no move to retaliate. He simply waited for Tony to continue. "It's true. Why you'd think I would want to flaunt it though…that would be like bragging about being cast in a movie as Sarah Palin or Ted Bundy. That aside," his grin faltered, just a bit, but it was enough for Loki to catch it. "The memory itself comes with other..uh..repressed memories."  
Loki sighed and steeled himself for the pun. Damn him. He'd already managed to find the god back in the cage and he continued to mock him. The man was stepping onto very thin ice. "I suppose these memories involved you wearing some hideous outfit and playing a foppish character?" his tone was far more seething than he had intended.  
Tony shook his head. "No, actually, it was the misrepresentation of you that bothered the nine year old mythology enthusiast in me. I had to wear crushed velvet and cardboard and prance around the stage like an annoying, bratty kid who needed a good boot in the ass. The role I played was nothing like what I'd read about and was, well, disappointing." He pauses and drums his fingers against the mug he held in what he tried to put off as nonchalance but what looked suspiciously like nervousness. "I knew someone who was big into mythology. She turned me onto it when I was a kid and I guess in a way you were kind of like my Batman. "  
He is pulled into silence, as is Loki. They sit in the uncomfortable silence for a few moments until Tony's lips quirk up haphazardly into a half smile. "Can't imagine why to look at you now, though."  
Loki's head shot up and he pegged Tony with a hardening glare. The words had been sincere, almost sweet. Loki, despite himself, had enjoyed the story.  
"You are quite the man, Stark." He stands, slowly, his eyes never leaving Tony's. "You can be both flattering and vile in the same breath. It is not one of your better qualities. And if you value what little of a life you humans have considering your pitiful and minute existence in this universe, then you will mind the way in which you speak to me." His eyes were menacing now, and behind them lay a thin veil of insanity. "Thank you for your entertainment but I have grown tired of your antics."

Tony stands as well, disliking the height difference as he stares down the god.  
"Feisty words from a man who's headed to a cage." Tony tried to shrug off this dismissal with his usual sardonic smile, hoping that the disappointment he really felt did not bleed too heavily into his tone.  
"But if you're in such a hurry to be left alone so you can dwell on your failures, far be it from me to deny you that. And don't forget. We had a deal."  
Loki's lips curl into a snarl and he vanished before Tony even had a chance to speak again. The engineer cursed and headed back for the guest room. He had entirely forgotten that he'd been wearing only his boxers during the entire confrontation and that made him feel twice as unthreatening as he had before the realization. He hurled the coffee cup into the sink, not really caring that it shattered on impact. "Damned Norse gods.."

* * *

On his word, Loki returned to the cage and allowed it to be locked. He was the Liesmith, indeed, but when Loki Laufeyson gave his word in truth he had always kept it. As Tony returned to the basement and put in place a few little devices that seemed to rob Loki of his ability to remove himself from the cage he had done nothing but glare at the man. Tony had returned the glare and blew him a mocking kiss as he and Fury walked away. The lights powered down with a great _bam_ and Loki was left alone and caged in the darkness. "Gods be damned mortal."

Tony did not return the next day, or the day after that. In fact, Loki noted with disdain that he did not return for several days.


End file.
